“Our Flag Means Death” Season Two is No Mermaid

Warning: Article contains explicit spoilers for seasons one and two of the series “Our Flag Means Death.”

Is it just me, or does the energy around here seem off? Following an agonizing wait, season two of the Max Original series “Our Flag Means Death” was released Oct. 5. However, while highly anticipated, season two walks the plank in comparison to the series’ first. To remind or spoil, the preceding season finished with Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) rescuing his marooned crew, and traveling the seven seas in search of the one who got away: Blackbeard (Taika Waititi). The series, set upon the eighteenth century’s viscous seas, observes the lives of captain Bonnet and his eccentric crew through love, loss, and plenty of stabbing. 

While primarily centered on Bonnet and Blackbeard, the series is supported by an endearing cast, including shipmates Lucius (Nathan Foad) and Olu (Samson Kayo), and the polyandrous Spanish Jackie (Leslie Jones). Fans’ wishing upon a star seems to have succeeded, as season two adds legendary pirates: Anne Bonny (Minnie Driver), Mary Read (Rachel House) and Zheng Yi Sao (Ruibo Qian). The depiction of pirates themselves, their humanity emphasized alongside their bloody notoriety, is central to the series’ charm. In “Our Flag Means Death,” pirates slice foes, gouge eyes, and plunder cargo; however they also enjoy sewing, communication, and “Pinocchio” — but only if the voice is done correctly. With an excellent cast, unique wit, and delightful characters, “Our Flag Means Death” invites viewers to a semi-fictionalized fly-on-the-wall look at the icons of piracy’s golden age.  

The series is “semi-fictionalized” in that it loosely follows the true tale of Stede Bonnet. Married with children and the heir of a prosperous sugar plantation in Barbados, Bonnet lived in upper-crust domesticity. What precisely led him to abandon this comfortable life is described in Captain Charles Johnson’s “A General History of the Pyrates,” which blames Bonnet’s frustrations on “discomforts he found in a married state.” While similar husbands might vent their dissatisfaction with petty affairs, drink, or misogynistic stand-up careers, Bonnet had a different solution. In what surely ranks among the most disastrous midlife crises in history, Bonnet abandoned his wife and children, assembled a crew upon his vessel — the Revenge — and became a pirate. 

Shockingly, the pirate’s life was not for him. Possessing no sailing experience and lacking the ability to intimidate, Bonnet was horrendously inadequate as captain. Despite his deficiencies, Bonnet became a novelty among his contemporaries. Many pirates being impoverished and dependent on violent raids for their survival, Bonnet’s aristocratic background and relative mercy towards his captives had him surnamed “the Gentleman Pirate.” Bafflingly, Bonnet’s flailing exploits allowed him to sail with the infamous Edward Teach — better known as Blackbeard. During this period, regret seemed to have caught up with Bonnet. He was described by shipmates as having a sorrowful demeanor, and dressed in morning gowns during his scarce appearances upon deck. Blackbeard eventually plundered the Revenge and marooned Bonnet’s crew, at last granting him that element of true pirates: desperation. Bonnet sought revenge for Blackbeard’s betrayal, to no avail. Captured and tried for his vice, Bonnet was hanged in December of 1718. He denied ever having been a pirate. 

Aside from Bonnet’s demise, the first season of “Our Flag Means Death” generally follows this history as we know it. Having surpassed the true Gentleman Pirate’s mortality, season two took further creative liberties with Bonnet’s story. Season two begins with Bonnet and Blackbeard separated by sea, yet haunted by longing for each other. Having renounced his wealth, Bonnet and his remaining crew tramp the Republic of Pirates, trading the Swede (Nat Faxon) to Spanish Jackie for work and shelter. Following an encounter with admirer Prince Ricky Banes (Erroll Shand), Bonnet learns of a valuable treasure belonging to Jackie which may pull his crew from squalor. When the heist goes South — Ricky’s snout lost to Jackie’s nose jar — the crew faces certain death. However, before enduring the wrath of Jackie’s 20 husbands, their lives are purchased by captain of piracy Zheng Yi Sao. Recruited aboard the Red Flag, Bonnet’s return to sea revives his hopes of locating Blackbeard.

Meanwhile, Blackbeard spirals into Bonnet-induced delirium, fueled by rhino horn and blood-stained raids to the velvet tune of “Strawberry Letter 23.” By light, his craving for plunder requires throwing excess treasure overboard; by dark, he projects inconsolable sorrow onto wedding cake toppers bearing uncanny resemblance to him and Bonnet. Disillusioned with their captain, Blackbeard’s crew struggles to endure his erratic behavior; including an attempt to take first mate Izzy Hands’ (Con O’Neill) life. When Blackbeard steers the Revenge into a raging storm, threatening to kill them all, his crew enacts long-deserved mutiny. The final scene of the episode depicts shipmate Jim (Vico Ortiz) hurling a cannonball into Blackbeard’s skull.   

This, in my opinion, is when season two declines. When Sao encounters the stranded Revenge, Bonnet is elated at the chance to be reunited with Blackbeard. However, after finding him absent, Izzy explains that Blackbeard has justifiably been thrown overboard as jetsam. To corroborate Izzy, Blackbeard is shown stranded on a beach with his former captain. Only — just try to put this in your pipe and smoke it — his captain is a delusion, and Blackbeard is trapped in purgatory. The entire time, Blackbeard’s body was still aboard the Revenge. If accepting the dull trope of psychological limbo wasn’t enough, Blackbeard’s skull survived being bashed with a cannonball unscathed. Not that I hoped he would resemble a practical effect from “Pulp Fiction” (1994), but some visible damage would’ve helped. Eventually, in a scene set to Kate Bush’s “This Woman’s Work,” which sent this woman into the fetal position with distress, Bonnet appears as a shimmering mermaid to rescue Blackbeard from purgatory. All a delusion, of course. He’s not real. He’s not real. He’s not real.

Despite this fiasco, I felt optimistic that season two could salvage itself. Having already resolved the season’s obvious conflict of BlackBonnet’s separation by episode four, there were several reasonable avenues for the remaining episodes. Surely Sao — jilted by Bonnet’s crew, including her beau Olu — would remain a consistent saboteur. Likewise, Blackbeard would face ongoing repercussions for his rebound with killing, robbing, and more killing. And what ever happened to Ricky? The season explores these avenues, but is noncommittal with each. Watching the episodes week to week, my anticipation suffered from the absence of ongoing tension. Sao holds Bonnet’s crew in mild contempt off-screen, but drops her resentments following a heart-to-heart with Olu. Blackbeard struggles to make amends with the shipmates he nearly killed, but is forgiven without calamity. Although viewers may have forgotten his existence after episode two, Ricky captures the pirates he once admired and nearly sends them to the gallows — the sole conflict I can pinpoint that escalates over multiple episodes with previous development. This failure to develop conflict can likely be blamed on Max, as season two was reduced to only eight episodes and suffered heavy budget cuts. “[The story] should have been told across twice as many episodes,” says senior Cordelia Treaux, a member of the Franklin QSA/SAGA. “It would have been a lot better if they’d taken more time with the story.” The unfortunate result resembles poorly conceived fanfiction, in which shenanigans eclipse plot progression. 

Episode six, titled “Calypso’s Birthday,” captures my conflict with season two perfectly. In need of an excuse to celebrate, the crew throws a party for an invented goddess’ birthday. However, the festivities are ruined when Ned Low (Bronson Pinchot) captures the celebrators to avenge his legacy — the record for consecutive raids, broken during Blackbeard’s violence binge. While being tortured to orchestrate a symphony of agony, it becomes apparent that Low’s crew is frustrated by their captain’s ingratitude. With the power of self-advocacy, Bonnet persuades the crew to mutiny, and forces Low to walk the plank — finally!

My complaint shouldn’t be mysterious, as yet again the conflict arises and resolves within an episode. Low is introduced in episode six, and dies in episode six. And, I never thought I’d say it, but the juxtaposition of pirates and positive work environments gets old. Every major conflict thus far has been resolved with what amounts to a “Full House” monologue. Although in many ways, this episode demonstrates what fans adore about “Our Flag Means Death.” It beautifully demonstrates found family, paralleling the series’ queer themes. Wee John Feeney (Kristian Nairn) appears in a Divine-esque imitation of Calypso, while Izzy sings “La Vie En Rose” — to see life through rose-colored glasses — in Marlene Dietrich brows. “It was nice to see queer characters just allowed to be happy and enjoy themselves,” says Treaux. Franklin senior Robin Ward acknowledges the significance of Izzy’s drag performance. The preceding season characterizes Izzy as discomforted by his queer shipmates, especially unnerved by Blackbeard’s relationship with Bonnet. “Izzy’s arc this season feels like someone finally accepting their queerness after pushing it away,” Ward says. Aside from Low’s appearance, the celebration scene is a touching testament to living as you are with those doing the same. In the season finale, Izzy remarks on his view of piracy: “It’s about belonging to something when the world has told you you’re nothing.” Plot-stagnant as it may be, I could watch these pirates throw a silly party and love themselves for eternity.

Season two wasn’t allowed the stretching room it deserved. However, with a unique point of view and engaging cast — reviewers may call Waititi limited, but I’ll never tire of him playing the same character in different outfits — “Our Flag Means Death” remains a delightful watch, and offers something invaluable: an answer to the unknown. Historical accounts provide us the names, locations, and dates, but rarely is there record of the intimate details we want to know: What made these figures laugh, or kept them awake at night; what did they discuss with loved ones in private; what truths were kept silent, leaving later generations with only suspicions? We’ll never know for certain what possessed Bonnet to abandon his life for another, or what his time with Blackbeard looked like. “Our Flag Means Death” fills the blanks of history, depicting the moments often deliberately absent from historical accounts. It’s a tale simultaneously familiar and completely new. Picture “Grease” (1978), except Sandy is a stout, elegantly dressed man, and Danny is a sadist — it’ll leave you in tears.